


This oasis is a poisoned well...

by Noir_Dix



Series: Dix's Ghost Stories [1]
Category: Ghost (Sweden Band)
Genre: Biting, Bleeding, Cutting, F/M, Illness, Other, Poisoning, Recovery, Trouble at the Dew Drop Inn, UNO, snacks, vamp angle
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-26
Updated: 2019-06-26
Packaged: 2020-05-15 20:29:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19303264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Noir_Dix/pseuds/Noir_Dix
Summary: The poisoning, that's been in my head for ages...I had a thought about Aether, & Dew took it over.This is me running (amok) with the canon Fearless Leader gave us. (Terzo & Two survive, after a fashion... I don't think One would make it.)There's no big smut, here.No, wait! Come back! 😅





	1. Chapter 1

The Cardinal hung around the edges of the gathering. Normal men got together to play poker. Women used to play bridge.

The prime movers of the unholy church played UNO. Dumbest thing ever, as far as he was concerned. He'd gotten them to play RISK one time, years ago. He'd ended up amassing a huge force on Papua New Guinea, & there had been no winners, that night.

Dix never ventured out to "game night," preferring instead to play rummy or video games in his room.

Strip rummy had been interesting.

He sipped at his third filthy martini, & smoked another little cigar... already tired of the mandatory appearance.

He'd have to save a couple of the cigars for Dix. They were vanilla, & he had the feeling that she would absolutely love them.

A few Nameless Ghouls suddenly crashed the "party."

They wore the modified cassocks of the Third's group. The scene devolved into chaos, with the Second yelling in Italian, the Third throwing his cards in, & the First just confused in general.

Cardi couldn't place these ghouls, except for the little one. He could pick Mary's mangy ass out of any lineup.

The Third was being overly dramatic, which lost something... without his skull-paint.

Still reminded him of Pulp Fiction-era John Travolta.

He was pondering this, when an unknown ghoul suddenly produced an evil-looking syringe behind the Third. It was filled with cloudy fluid. He stuck the Third's jugular, & the man went down.

 _Sabotage!_ was his last thought, before he felt the needle's prick.

* * *

Mary dragged the Cardinal through the seemingly endless interior corridors.

The man was the same size as him... The exact. Same. Size.

He was still having one hell of a time with it. Stumbling & muttering incoherently, Mary kept catching mentions of Dix here & there... Otherwise, it was a pathetic, jumbled mess.

He had no idea _what_ had happened, back there. Nothing had been mentioned about poisoning.

"Beth! Beth... I'm sorry. So sorry- Eliza. Beth."

Oh, shit. _He was talking to the dead_.

Close. His chamber was close. He didn't know what else to do.

He tapped at the door, winded.

"Dix, open the goddamned door!" he called, finally.

He got to witness an instant, terrifying change of expression.

"What have you done?" she demanded, as he completed his arduous journey. "Mary Goore, you stupid whore- WHAT. HAVE. YOU. DONE?"

"I-" he looked at her, mad for all of a moment, before realizing that she was very angry, & very scared. After all these years, _she_  could be the one to finally kill him.

He left, as fast as a half-dead thing possibly could.

"You little bastard! Get back here!" she almost gave chase... but, was halted by the horrible sounds coming from the bed.

She looked at her unholy savior, who looked about ten times worse than he had when she'd met him.

And that was saying something.

"Basil-? Cardi?" her voice broke. _"Baby?"_

His eyes fluttered open, but, in slow motion.

"There she is." he grinned feebly, before his eyes closed back.

"What happened?" she was panicking.

"Bloood-" he slurred.

Blood. Did he need blood?

Something was very wrong.

She started to bite him, to perform her own diagnostic, & he fought her with what little he had left.

"Poison." he finally said.

Poisoned? He was undead.

_How?_

_Who?_

She looked around frantically, & ended up digging through the one little nightstand for one of his knives.

While she was in the midst of this process, he somehow managed to jump up from their twin bed, & lurch into the water closet to the side.

It really was a water closet. There was a tiny toilet, a tiny sink, a shower head, & a tile floor with a drain.

They generally only used the shower. Now, he was hunched over the toilet, throwing up everything he had consumed in the last 600+ years, apparently.

She rubbed his shoulders. It was all black. Black as Mary's blood.

She started pulling at his clothes, he held her hand, effectively stopping her.

"I don't think this is really the best time-"

"Oh, hush. I'm going to put on the shower. Take off your clothes."

"Shower?" he blinked. This wasn't making a whole lot of sense to him. She didn't seem to be concerned about removing _her_ clothes.

Such as they were. She had fully anticipated him coming in half-ratted on vodka martinis, & irritated at the clergy in general... Thus, she was only barely "dressed," in some part satin, part sheer, baby doll pjs.

The best _-laid_ plans...

"I'm not wearing a custom suit." she said, surprising him, by poking around in his head a bit.

She flushed the toilet, & he stood, helping her undress him. She put on the shower, to start warming up.

"How could they possibly have _poisoned_ you?" she asked.

He gagged a little, & she reached to squeeze his shoulder.

"Syringe. In the neck."

Ah. So, his bloodstream.

"Why is it making you sick?"

He shook his head miserably.

 _Because, it couldn't kill him_.

"Who?"

He was turning kind of green, again.

"They were dressed as Nameless Ghouls."

"Cowards." she sneered, angry.

She went & got the knife.

"I know I can't bite you... but, I think we should get the tainted blood out, somehow."

His eyes widened. Clever little witch.

That was why he was still rather smitten with her.

"Okey-dokey." he sighed, resigned.

"On your knees." she gestured.

"Are you trying to make this into some kind of kinky thing?" he frowned.

"I'm trying to get more blood, down the drain, faster." she huffed.

(Plus, there was a good possibility of him falling over... She _was_ basically trying to bleed him out.)

"Oh." he got down on his knees, but, still eyed her suspiciously.

He was also at half-mast. She willed herself not to roll her eyes. Half-ill, body fighting who-knew-what kind of poison, & still down to fuck.

"Only you, my angel." he sighed, closing his eyes, & still trying not to gag.

Now, she did roll her eyes... willing to bet he was getting hot & bothered over her pajamas, the knife, or... possibly both.

"Sììì."

She tilted his head, one hand in his hair, trying to ignore his rapidly hardening cock.

_Honestly._

"Mi dispiace amore mio." she murmured, before cutting his throat.

"Don't be." he managed to gurgle, eyes going terribly wide. He lasted perhaps a good minute before falling over. She tried to arrange him, without success. Black blood poured from the wound, & it had an awful, chemical smell. Soon, she was covered in it, & soaked from the shower. She gave up & sat on the floor, pulling his head into her lap.

He was shaking dreadfully, & back to mumbling. She realized he was delirious, & wondered how long this would take to cycle out of his system.

She expected him needing to bite her, to put some of the blood back... but, after that-

She had no clue.

WHO had done this? And, WHY?

He interrupted her rumination by sitting up. She cringed.

Sickeningly gaunt, with _dead_ eyes.

No recognition. No reason.

She looked to the gash on his neck. It had finally quit bleeding, & was just a white, wet cut.

He picked up the knife that she didn't remember dropping.

She scurried away from him, horrified. Granted, she wasn't exactly being _fair..._ considering that she had just cut him. (And, for all intents & purposes, _killed_ him. Again.)

He stared at her, hungrily.

He looked like he had escaped from The Phantom of the Opera.

The book.

Not the recent Gerard Butler movie, with the bad make-up continuity.

She squeezed her eyes shut, preparing for the worst.

 _This was going to hurt_.

Maybe she should run...

Suddenly, (unexpectedly,) she heard the knife clatter. She opened her eyes slowly. He was staring at his scrawny arms & hands as though not quite sure they were his. He finally looked at her.

Animal. He could smell fear.

"Dix." he smiled tiredly. "Like, the southern Dixie-land."

She almost burst into tears.

"No, no... Don't do that." he crawled over to her. "Neither of us need you to do that."

He kissed the thin flesh of her neck reverently, hugging her tightly around her shoulders.

"Mmm... nothing like the smell of wet drawers."

She giggled, still just a shade away from crying. She realized that he was trying to distract her.

"Take what you need." she said.

"No." he murmured against her, mustache tickling her neck. "Too dangerous."

He sank his fangs gently, & groaned audibly with the first mouthful of blood. He started peeling off her soaked lingerie.

He remained gentle. He went exceedingly slow, but, still managed to suck her dry.

Soon, she was boneless, & unable to move. He started taking little breaks... To turn off the shower. To wring out her pajamas, & put them on hangers. (He'd put them in soak with some Woolite, later.) To fetch a couple of towels, & wrap both her & her hair up.

He carried her in, & deposited her on the little bed. He stood, staring down at her for a bit.


	2. Chapter 2

"Have I grown horns?" she asked, it came out as a weak little croak.

He smiled.

"Not yet."

She frowned. He was still too skinny... Wraith-like.

"I'll get better." he said, dismissively. "What would you like to eat, pet?"

Who. The real question there was, _who?_

Maybe whom.

She pondered. This was what was next. The unknown.

She _could_ use some blood, though.

He went back to the water closet momentarily, & returned smelling strongly of Listerine. His mustache was soaked, & the blackened upper lip was gone.

She wondered if her neck smelled of undead black blood barf.

"I tried to rinse it."

Did he? She couldn't even remember.

"In the mood for Aether?" he asked, as though he were ordering take-out.

She followed his logic. Aether _was_ a strapping guy...

"Good blood, too... like a rare steak with a nice red wine."

She raised her eyebrows.

 _"What?_ I'm a vampire. I have to sample."

Okay. She'd play.

"Careful, Dix."

"Swiss."

"Shiraz." he said instantly, then, "& maybe some kind of fantastic sausage... like, a Spanish chorizo."

"Okay, okay..." she giggled.

"You should sample, too. This latest group are a tasty bunch. Surely better than what's become of Mary."

 _He was still naked_.

"Don't call me Shirley." she said, as he took her hair down.

She stared at the brand on his chest, long since faded, so that she hardly noticed it anymore.

"You scared me, tonight."

" _I_ scared me."

He sat on the side of the bed, & started absentmindedly stroking her leg.

"I wonder which of us they managed to kill?"

"Wait, what?"

"They got Terzo, too. I saw it."

"Wait, WHAT?" she sat up too fast; fell back down.

He conjured his phone, seemingly out of thin air. He summoned Aether to their chamber, which was questionable in & of itself.

"You should put some pants on."

"You're no fun. You know, I read a story. It had Aether. And, me. And, some nameless seester... And we-"

He lined up his index fingers, then gestured _up._

 _"Two?"_ she copied him.

"Sì."

"At the same time?"

"Sì."

"In the same-"

There was no nice way to put it. He grinned expectantly.

"...hole?"

"Sììì."

"Good Lord."

"No."

"I don't want to try _that._ You & Mary were traumatic enough, 200-odd years ago."

"No fun." he was up, finding some pajama pants. 

He started humming the old Stooges tune.

"...No fun, my babe  
No fun   
No fun, my babe  
No fun  
No fun to be alone  
Walking by myself  
No fun to be alone  
In love  
With nobody else..."

"You & Terzo were fun."

He made a face.

"Depends on your idea of _fun."_

"Hm. They poisoned him, too?"

"I saw him go down."

 _"No."_ she was upset.

He looked at her.

"I'm sure he's fine. He _did_ get into the voodoo."

He wasn't the only one. She looked at him meaningfully.

He blew her a little kiss.

"I know, Haeresis Dea. I know."

He pulled on some jersey pants with the Universal movie monsters emblazoned all over them.

There was a timid knock on the door.

"Mmm... you'll thank me for this, later."

"Will you make him forget?" she asked, wishing for more than a towel, with no make-up & damp hair.

"I will make him forget." he assured her, as he answered the door.

"Hey, boss. You wanted to talk about the 'guitar duel' I have with Dew during the show?"

"Sì, sì. Come in, my big, strong ghoul."

"Uhhh- Dew wasn't doing anything, so, he came with."

Oh, no. She would have sat up again, but, knew she'd just fall back down again.

"How nice. You brought us a delightful Riesling."

The big ghoul & the little ghoul came in, their discomfort with a half-dressed, deathly Cardi palpable.

"Huh? You know... this room is kind of hard to find."

The little ghoul was staring at her. She stared back.

"You're too small." she told him.

He just tilted his head.

"He doesn't think so." Cardi said.

Yeah.

She figured.

"Oh, hey, boss-" Aether was desperately uncomfortable. "Is this your old lady? We... didn't... know... you-"

Cardi narrowed his eyes.

"Be still, you big, wonderful piece of meat." he turned to Dewdrop, (which always made Dix think _Dew Drop Inn_ -) "Can you handle her, little Ghoul? She's very hungry."

"I'm right here." she muttered.

He came to sit primly on the side of the bed, with perfect posture. He was powerfully intrigued.

"Skin." she said.

He looked to the Cardinal. The Cardinal shrugged.

"Pick a spot. Everything's covered."

Naturally, his hands went to the waist of his pants.

"Not that."

"Indeed." Cardi agreed, with just the slightest warning in his tone.

The little ghoul huffed, still not speaking. He started to pull at the cloth covering his neck.

"Ah. Classic. Good choice."

The ghoul glared at her from behind his mask.

Cardi was hovering around Aether; he wanted a bite SO BAD.

It was actually kind of cute, in a very disturbing way.

"Go ahead." she told him.

"No. I am waiting to see if you need him."

"Give me a hand." she told the little ghoul. He was perplexed, but, pulled her on up. He braced an arm behind her as she gently traced the veins of his neck.

"Thank you." she said, before sinking her teeth.

"Unhhh-"

Cardi chuckled.

She wasn't quite sure how to go... She didn't want to do lovey-dovey, & she certainly didn't want to go sexual with this ghoul. He didn't know her from Eve.

"You're fine, Dix. Don't over-think it."

The ghoul's stomping leg was trembling violently. He kept rubbing his thigh with his free hand, & covertly squeezing her side with the other.

"He's going to mess his pants." the Cardinal jeered.

"Hush." she scolded him. She cradled the side of the ghoul's mask, before reaching up to finger one of his little horns.

He _did_ taste rather like Riesling.

He leaned into her hand, like a cat.

"But, what meat?" the Cardinal asked, sitting next to him.

She was rather proud of him. He was just this side of voyeuristic inappropriateness.

"Chicken?"

"Chicken works."

 _Keep fucking that chicken_.

No.

"He reminds me more of a big bowl of pesto-pasta."

"Ooh. More better." he patted the ghoul's leg. "Good job, Ghoul. You play ripping guitar solos, & remind my woman of tasty pasta. Now... _forget what you've seen_."

Dew looked between them.

"No." he said.

"Ah, shit." said the Cardinal.

"Help me, Obi-Wan Kenobi. You're my only hope." she snorted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (I might have to dig out my Best of Iggy CD, later...)  
> (I took some big liberties with the timeline. Again.)  
> 

**Author's Note:**

> Tell me what y'all think.  
> No, REALLY.  
> 😼  
> Seestor, can you spare a kudo?


End file.
